


Weighed Down

by Haberdasher



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Beds, Blankets, Communication, Fluff, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist With a Cane, M/M, POV Martin Blackwood, Set in Episodes 159-160 | Scottish Safehouse Period (The Magnus Archives), Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:02:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28205058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Haberdasher/pseuds/Haberdasher
Summary: Martin notices that Jon hasn’t been as close to him at night as he used to be.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 8
Kudos: 207





	Weighed Down

There was only one bed in the safehouse.

Why would there be more than one bed, after all? It was Daisy’s safehouse, made for the use of Daisy alone--or perhaps for Daisy and Basira both, but, well, if there was a story there, Martin didn’t know it and didn’t particularly care to.

It wasn’t a problem, really. It had been a bit awkward at first, getting used to sharing a bed with Jon--especially after the Lonely, after Martin had gone so long without being physically or emotionally close to anyone, only to find himself being both at once--but they’d worked it out soon enough.

Now Martin actually liked sharing the one bed with Jon, even if it meant a few hasty rearrangements of blankets or getting jabbed by Jon’s pointy elbows now and then. Martin liked the warmth of Jon’s body pressed against his own, the feeling of skin brushing against skin, the weight of Jon (slender though he was) up against him come morning.

Which was why it was a problem, now, that Jon seemed to be going out of his way to _not_ sleep right up against Martin at night.

The first night, Martin had thought it was a fluke. If Jon wanted to spend one night on the far side of the bed from him, well, that was his prerogative. Maybe it meant something, most likely it didn’t, either way there was little use in worrying about it too much.

The second night, Martin wondered if he’d done something to offend Jon without even knowing it. He didn’t _think_ he had, though, and Jon knew better than to keep that sort of thing bottled up, to express his feelings only through vague gestures... right?

The more Martin thought about it, though, the more that seemed _exactly_ like the Jon he knew, to refuse to talk about something that was clearly bothering him... but forcing him to talk would probably just make matters worse.

The third night, Martin was freezing, and Jon was _still_ curled up on the far side of the bed from him, and Martin decided to mentally go through the day before this had all started, see if he could figure out what it was that was on Jon’s mind even now.

It had been an ordinary enough day, though. Not that much excitement, even by safehouse standards. No trips to the village, and only a single walk that Martin and Jon had gone on together, with Martin making sure to go slow enough that Jon could keep up, his cane tapping every step of the way. They’d worked on a jigsaw puzzle, played some card games, unpacked a bit more-

Unpacked a bit more. Unpacked a handful of things to incorporate into everyday safehouse life, including the blanket that Martin had on top of him now--a weighted blanket, though its weight was a poor substitute for Jon, the blanket thick and fuzzy and not as warm as one might expect given its weight, which made the absence of Jon’s heat all the more noticeable.

“Jon?”

“Mmm?” Jon turned towards Martin, though he still didn’t get too close, still didn’t so much as brush against the blanket that covered him. He didn’t sound like he’d been fully asleep before Martin spoke up, but the bleariness in his eyes and the confusion in his voice suggested that he hadn’t been far off.

“Have you been avoiding sleeping next to me... because you don’t like the blanket I brought out?”

Jon blinked once, twice, a third time before responding, his eyes focusing a little more with every blink. “That obvious, then?”

Martin had to suppress a laugh as he realized that his worst fears hadn’t been fulfilled after all, that Jon really was boycotting the blanket instead of the one inside it. “What’s wrong with this blanket?”

“Nothing, it-”

Martin pushed the blanket down, though it didn’t retreat quite as much as he’d have liked. “Look, obviously something about it is rubbing you the wrong way, so...”

“It just...” Jon glanced at the offending blanket before looking back up at Martin. “It’s too heavy for me, is all.”

“Really? I thought you _liked_ weighted blankets.”

“Where’d you hear that?”

Martin had to think about it for a moment before the memory came to him. “I, I think Tim told me, not long after we started working together. That was actually part of what made me decide to try out this one. I’d been thinking about it for a while, but I figured, well, if they’re good enough for the _boss_...”

Jon snorted softly at Martin’s finishing words, but it took a moment for him to respond beyond that. Martin didn’t mind, though; the silence that filled the space wasn’t an uncomfortable one, not anymore.

“You’re right, I, I used to like weighted blankets quite a bit, actually.”

“But not anymore.” Martin filled in.

“No, not anymore.”

Another silence, another pause before Jon spoke up again.

“I suppose the pressure of it, the way it impedes movement... it hits a bit too close to home now, after three days in the Buried. Brings back bad memories.”

“Oh, Jon, I didn’t even think-”

Jon shook his head. “You shouldn’t have had to think of it. I should have been more open about my issue with your blanket. But I’m sure I can, can get used to it, over time, if the blanket is important to you...”

“It’s not.” Martin didn’t bother hiding his laugh this time. “It’s _really_ not.”

Martin tried to push the blanket to the foot of the bed, succeeded in only moving it a few measly inches, and pushed it the other way instead, the blanket’s extra weight making it that much easier for gravity to pull it to the floor.

“You didn’t have to-” Jon’s words sounded like protests, but already he was inching closer to Martin now that the blanket was out of his way.

“I _wanted_ to. Trust me, Jon-” Another short laugh. “I’d much rather be weighed down by you in bed than by some old blanket any day--er, night.”

Jon laughed a little this time, too, as he reached towards Martin, his arms stretching across Martin’s chest. “Well, that’s certainly good to hear.”

“Just remember how happy you were to hear that in a moment now, okay?”

“What? Wait, why? Martin, what are you- good lord, are those your feet, or did you somehow smuggle a pair of icicles into bed?”

And they both dissolved into laughter, the air free and open once again.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this, consider following me on tumblr at [haberdashing](https://haberdashing.tumblr.com/)!


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